


Target Practice

by Lamachine



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3339656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“I’ve got better aim than you,” Shaw guessed where Root was going.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“In normal circumstances, yes,” Root agreed, “but what if you were... distracted?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for karastantons/derevkos (sort of based on one of her tweets) and slightly inspired by the _Hysterical Literature_ series on youtube.

How they had almost reached the end of the bottle in just two hours, Shaw wouldn’t know, but she could imagine Root had something to do with it. She didn’t really mind; being trapped in the underground station wasn’t as thrilling as Finch tried to make it sound. _Now is the occasion to widen your range of skills, Miss Shaw_ , he kept saying in that high-pitched voice that made her teeth hurt.

 

But Finch was nowhere near the subway station tonight, and Shaw had been spending the night drinking whisky with Root and winning poker game after poker game. _Not_ strip poker, despite Root’s multiple attempts to convince her otherwise.

 

“This is boring,” Shaw complained, voice slurred. Her head was pleasantly numb as she rose to her feet, fully expecting Root to follow.

 

And she did. “Where are you going?”

 

Shaw smirked; it wasn’t often that she managed to get ahead of Root. Not having the Machine in her ear had turned her into some soppy shell that made Shaw wince, but it had some advantages. She stepped into the armory with a wicked smile.

 

“Target practice,” Shaw suggested as she grabbed two USPs. She threw one at Root but she didn’t catch it and it fell to the ground, with Root laughing. “Need to work on your reflexes.”

 

“I’m drunk,” Root pouted, ignoring the firearm on the floor and crashing against Shaw’s body instead. “Let’s do something else.”

 

It didn’t take much to gather what Root wanted to do exactly, but Shaw hadn’t been in a good shootout in days and she really wanted to fire a gun. She glared at Root before she pushed her off; “you don’t have to come.”

 

At that Root laughed again, and Shaw rolled her eyes. That woman certainly had a one-track mind when she had a few drinks – actually, even when sober, Root was pretty much the same. The same annoying idiot that was following Shaw down the tunnel now, all the way to the firing range Shaw had created last week, out of boredom. _That is an efficient use of your time, Miss Shaw_ , Finch had congratulated her, and Shaw had thought of adding a picture of his face to the targets. She hadn’t, but she wasn’t sure why. It would’ve been funny. Reese and Finch wouldn’t have agreed to that, but Root certainly would have laughed.

 

She turned around to see Root staring at her with adoring eyes. “Stop that,” Shaw protested, although she didn’t exactly dislike the weird warmth it spread to her chest. It reminded her of whisky burning down her throat. “Where’s the bottle?”

 

“I left it in your room,” Root shrugged.

 

Shaw pinched her nose. “Well, go get it then.”

 

Root leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Shaw’s lips. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

 

No amount of glaring could stop Root from using dumb nicknames, and so Shaw didn’t try. Instead, she carefully loaded her USP, the familiar task helping to scatter the blur of alcohol in her mind. She blinked a few times once she was done, wondering whether she should wait for Root or not.

 

Just pondering on that made her wince; she didn’t need Root, didn’t even want her around. Of course she wasn’t going to wait.

 

She fired three rounds in a perfect triangle over the dummy’s heart.

 

“That’s pretty good,” Root purred from behind her.

 

Shaw didn’t fight the smile curling her lips. “I know,” she replied, turning around to find Root only inches away. “Where’s my bottle?”

 

Root grinned. “I had an idea.”

 

That mischievous look in her eyes should’ve been a warning, but Shaw always found it more inviting than threatening... though maybe it was better if Root didn’t know that.

 

“What idea?” Shaw grunted as she stole the half-empty bottle from Root, gulping down a mouthful.

 

Root’s smirk only grew. “You’re good with guns,” she started, running a hand on Shaw’s side, fingers toying with her shirt. Root bit her lower lip as she leaned closer, her breath tickling Shaw’s skin in an annoying, yet somehow enticing kind of way. Maybe Root had a point; maybe they could be doing something other than firing guns.

 

“You too,” Shaw breathed out against her will, but it was worth it for the look of surprise spreading across Root’s traits. Shaw used it to her advantage, pulling Root closer and kissing her hard.

 

Root broke the embrace with a devilish grin. “But _how_ good?”

 

Her sultry voice made Shaw want to punch and kiss her all the same, or maybe it was because Root had stolen the bottle back, grimacing as she swallowed more than her usual sips.

 

“I’ve got better aim than you,” Shaw guessed where Root was going.

 

“In normal circumstances, yes,” Root agreed, “but what if you were... distracted?”

 

Fingers were undoing Shaw’s pants and for a moment she wasn’t sure whether it was hers or Root’s. The burning in her chest had settled for her lower stomach instead and she glanced at Root’s lips with something dangerously close to need. Her heart skipped a beat when Root’s tongue peeked out to lick her bottom lip, obviously teasing.

 

“Distracted?” Shaw repeated as Root’s hand slipped into her pants. “I could hit that target while fighting off two dudes with IEDs exploding beside me.”

 

The tip of Root’s finger found her clit and for a second Shaw closed her eyes, savoring the touch even though she knew it wouldn’t last. Root liked to tease and the more often they fucked, the more Shaw could handle the wait. It was always worth it – not that she’d tell that to Root.

 

“Yes,” Root whispered in her ear, “but how good is your aim when you’re involved in a different kind of action?”

 

Shaw’s pants dropped to the floor and she repressed a shiver when the cold air hit her thighs.

 

“Do your worse,” Shaw challenged, eyes boring into Root’s.

 

Root didn’t need more invitation; she dropped to her knees and Shaw’s grip over her gun tightened. Root’s warmth was welcomed and she fisted her hair with her free hand, pushing Root’s face against her. If they were going to do this ridiculous challenge, might as well do it fast.

 

It seemed Root had no argument against it; her tongue quickly got to work, licking Shaw’s labia as fingernails dug painfully into her ass. Shaw relished the feeling for a moment, closing her eyes as Root relentlessly teased her.

 

She blinked when the movement between her legs stopped. “Fire your gun,” Root reminded her before she returned her attention to Shaw’s throbbing need, and Shaw groaned.

 

Focusing on the target wasn’t the easiest task after all; her limbs were seemingly melting and her breathing had turned hectic. Shaw tried to slow her heartbeat down as she licked her lips, pointing the muzzle at the dummy’s head and firing three other shots.

 

“Again,” Root insisted and Shaw tugged on her hair a bit tighter as she shot the target three more times. She groaned in frustration when she noticed one of them had missed, and emptied her magazine into another dummy, effectively blasting an enormous hole into its paper head.

 

Root pulled apart again, even as she slipped two fingers in. “Reload,” she ordered and Shaw hissed when Root bit her thigh hard enough to leave a mark.

 

Loading a new magazine proved just as difficult as staying upright, with Root’s fingers curling inside her, a fast rhythm that made Shaw want to stop everything and just focus on the mixture of pain and pleasure that Root offered. Instead, she quickly shoved the clip in and emptied the magazine again, the recoil hitting her wrist even as Root built up her orgasm.

 

The loud noise of the repeated explosions in her barrel mixed with the wet sounds of Root’s mouth pressed against her and the underground station had never felt warmer. Shaw let out a gasp when Root pushed a third finger in, pulling the trigger too quickly and missing by a long shot.

 

Shaw came hard as she fired her last shot, the orgasm rushing over her as quickly as the bullet crossed the air and Shaw forgot she was holding the gun when she dropped her arm to grab Root’s head with both hands.

 

“Ow,” she complained, placing kisses on Shaw’s thigh nonetheless.

 

Shaw pulled her up, biting Root’s lips hungrily and tasting herself there, the warm gun now pressed against Root’s back. Although Shaw guessed it shouldn’t, it felt _right_ , somehow.

 

When Shaw broke the kiss, Root grinned. “We should do this more often,” she winked, wiping Shaw’s arousal from her lips with the back of her hand. She looked like a kid in a candy store and Shaw wanted nothing but to push back.

 

“Who said we’re done?” Shaw replied with a shrug. She shoved the gun in Root’s hand before she pulled up her pants. “Reload.”

 

Root shivered. “We should change the targets,” she suggested, but Shaw was already rolling up her dress. “Or we won’t know which one of us is better at this.”

 

“I know which ones are mine,” Shaw breathed against Root’s neck, biting down hard.

 

Of course the paper targets turned out too shredded to tell anything apart, but it wasn’t like Shaw cared much.

 

In terms of hobbies, this new target practice was way better than poker anyway.


End file.
